Hello hello all you patrons! Retract your scythe to an easily-stowable length and keep a look out for the talk o’ the town, because this isn’t just any riff…

This is HALLOWEEN!

“And to celebrate… we have got some really bad pastas. With Necrosleep and Suicidal Nightmare we could kind of figure out what was supposed to be scary, and the Jeff Clones just didn’t give a glub and dived straight into rampant wish-fulfillment, but here…”

Remember a few weeks ago when we had that ‘amusing’ little oneshot where the Slender Man was a plumber who laid pipe more in the euphemistic sense than doing anything remotely plumber-like? And how I might have mentioned that there was a sequel to that fic?

This is the sequel!

:an awkward silence settles over the Library:

Anyone want to take a look at the summary? It’s really something.

Slender’s conquest continues in a lust for love, passion and souls.

Not, y’know, a lot of something, but at least it is there.

:awkward cough:

Existing.

:shuffles feet:

“Good God, Swenia was right; you are terrible at this.”

:frustrated groan: What are you doing here, Syl?

“Barnaby slipped out again.”

Are you telling me there’s an angry honey badger loose in the Library? Again?!? :rubs forehead: Why on Earth did you think it was a good idea to get a pet, much less that particular pet?

“Hey, you’re not one to cast stones; you’ve got ninjas and a dragon.”

First off, the ninjas aren’t pets they are minions;

“There’s a difference?”

:ignores Syl: And secondly, Gumdrop is a very valuable member of the Security/Confectionery Team for the Library! He’s also a tyrannosaur, not a dragon.

:Syl makes a dismissive gesture: “Semantics. Don’t worry about Barnaby, she’ll turn up eventually. Much like me, she is a free spirit who cannot be tamed or constrained.”

No, much like you she is a raging ball of crazy and sharp bits that no one wants around.

Like anything to do with Jeff the Killer, the pastas under review today contain potential flamebait in the form of tactless handling of bullying and mental illness. Oh and also really nondescript torture.

Title: Lizzy The ReaperAuthor: Your Guess Is As Good As MineMedia: Web OriginalTopic: Jeff the Killer, Slenderman, Eyeless Jack, and basically every other horrible pasta in existence.Genre: CreepypastaURL:Trollpasta Rehost

Critiqued by: AdmiralSakai and Nina

Hello hello all you patrons! Turn up your favorite Bathtubs & Razorblades album and open a new box of facial tissue, because it’s time once again for…

In case you couldn’t figure it out from the goddamn title, the pasta being riffed today contains potential flamebait in the form of a very strange handling of suicide. It’s not on the level of, say, a certain infamous Spongebob Squarepants ‘pasta previously riffed here, but exercise caution in the comments regardless. Also, expect the usual spoopy staples of random gore and character torture.

Hello hello all you patrons! Grab a heaping helping of cat brains and submit any roasted-fetus complaints to the Bureau of Demonic Affairs, because it’s time once again for…

“Roll it!”

“Wait, no, that can’t be right!”

Ooooooooooh, yes it can!

What do you get when you combine the circle-jerking groupthink of the Creepypasta Wiki with the “anything goes” quality standards of fimfiction.net?

Why, ponypasta, of course!

Because nothing chills the blood like a show about magical talking horses who learn lessons about friendship, amiright?

Hello hello, all you patrons! Sign on up for the Nocturnal Underground and hail your nearest Stan, because it’s time once again for…

“Roll it!”

Last time in part one of this ‘Necrosleep’ thing we got introduced to Reed Murdock, your creepypasta-standard loser Millennial sympathy sponge who somehow makes enough money off of his personal blog and random Internet shenanigans to rent his own apartment and feed/bathe/otherwise maintain a hairless Sphynx cat named Twig. Oh yeah, and his whole blog is included in a case file which reveals that at some point soon he’s going to die under suspicious circumstances.

“It doesn’t take a shoggoth-tsui to figure out that those circumstances are probably going to be related to the fact that Reed just swallowed a pill of the titular ‘necrosleep’, which he was basically handed for free by a representative of a shadowy Ukranian black-market pharmaceutical outfit with more blatant occult imagery and code-words packed into it than a witches’ sabbath in the Great Library of R’lyeh -well, technically his neighbors got handed it for free since he’s stealing their Internet signal, but the important bit seems to be that all of their products (which is basically just necrosleep, a pill that supposedly lets you never have to sleep) are credited to some flat-face scientist named ‘Doctor Hail A. Stan’. Yes, really.”

You know, after the unexpected skeleton sex last time I thought I would go a little easier on you fine people.

I thought about it, but I’m not.

As you can tell from the title and header, this is a Slender Man fic – and it is a Romance! You know how much I love those. This is also a Horror fic, and really does have a little touch of horror in it. (Also a little touching and some very odd euphemisms.) It doesn’t get very graphic, but it really isn’t the sort of thing you should expose young, impressionable minds to either.

Let’s look at the summary!

She finds herself in the clutches of Slender, first in pleasure, then in terror.

I hope this isn’t a Reader fic; poor Whirlybat is still traumatized from the skeleton sex. Let’s go to the fic and see, shall we?

*Guard-Novitiate Psk’nyor “Nina” C’hon staggers back into the control room from a generally armory-ward direction, smelling strongly of single-malt Scotch and wearing only a white ‘Straight Outta Innesmoth’ t-shirt a size too small for her and what look disturbingly like UNSC-Marine-issue men’s boxer shorts.

Due to her current somewhat disheveled state, it takes her a few moments to realize that RIFFCON seems to have undergone some… changes. Many of the fluorescent ceiling lights are cracked and broken, casting dark, ominous shadows over the hyper-realistic-blood-red carpeting; those terminals which are still functional display a number of popular 90s cartoon and video game characters dying increasingly violent deaths to the haunting strains of the original Lavender Town theme; several sections of raised floor shift dangerously as the skeletons beneath them threaten to pop out; and even the open spaces near the walls seem occupied by ghostly, supernatural forms that give the faintest suggestion of formal business attire. In the middle of it all sits the Admiral, dressed in a white Linkin Park hoodie and smiling an absurdly wide smile.*

“…

Awwww, glub no.”

Ohohoho, yes! My fellow patrons, it’s that time of year once again, so get Ready For Round 2, don’t GO TO SLEEP, and prepare to enjoy…